


Lap Princess

by sentient_dust



Category: Sofia the First (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Difference, Cliche, Cursy Cedric, Denial of Feelings, Don’t fuck teenagers btw, F/M, Feelings Realization, Guilt, Light Angst, No Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Alternating, Sexual Content, Sitting on Lap, Some Cursing, Updated story and still no sex lmao, sorry - Freeform, tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25602337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentient_dust/pseuds/sentient_dust
Summary: His gaze locked onto Sofia’s as it dawned on them simultaneously. There was only space for one person.Sofia was the first one to speak, “Oh.”“I’ll inform the coachman to turn the carriage around.”
Relationships: Cedric the Sorcerer/Sofia the First
Comments: 29
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if this was Mature or Explicit but it's slightly graphic so keep that in mind.

“Mr. Cedric, wait!”

Sofia came running out of the castle, nearly bumping into Cedric. He fought down a wave of annoyance, this was going to make him late.

“Can I _please_ go with you?”

“You declined my offer earlier,” he deadpanned.

She at least had the decency to look sheepish, “I thought I was going to be busy for longer. Please? I really wanted to go pick some books up from Hexley Hall.”

He considered her pleading expression and quietly huffed. His inability to say no to her was going to bite him one day. At least they would be flying, winged horses were always faster. “Alright, but hurry up.”

Sofia’s face brightened a little too much for something so simple. He would never understand her optimism.

“Thank you, Mr. Cedric! You’re the-”

“The best, I know,” he couldn’t help a small smile.

Cedric climbed into the carriage after Sofia and they took off. He didn’t realize how many items the king wanted him to transport to his old school. The books and other magical artifacts were taking up at least half of the interior. His gaze locked onto Sofia’s as it dawned on them simultaneously. There was only space for one person.

Sofia was the first one to speak, “Oh.”

“I’ll inform the coachman to turn the carriage around.”

“That would make you late,” she hesitated.

He frowned, “It would. However, as I am sure you have noticed, there is only one seat.”

There was a pause, “I could stand up?”

“Don’t be silly, the trip is two hours long,” he dismissed her suggestion with a wave.

Her eyes widened as she got an idea, heart beating harder at the thought. “Well, I could- uh,” she averted her gaze. Saying it out loud was harder than expected. She technically wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Yes?”, Cedric asked with a raised brow. He should probably avoid further wasting time and talk to the coachman. They were only going to go higher in the sky.

“Just sit down. I know how we can both fit.” It was probably better to just show him.

“What are you thinking?”, he didn’t bother keeping the suspicion out from his voice.

She hoped she wasn’t blushing, “Just let me try.”

Apprehensive but also by now in the habit of trusting Sofia, Cedric sat on the velvet seat. There was definitely not enough room for another person. He had half second to process what was happening before all he could see were brown curls and purple satin.

She sat on his lap.

His expression must’ve betrayed his bafflement since she scrambled to explain herself, “I know it’s not ideal… but it's only two hours, right? This would be easier than turning back.”

Alarms bells immediately went off. His mind flooded with everything that could go wrong. Some of the possibilities he did not want to entertain, ever, like knowing how Sofia’s plush legs felt against his.

“You are going to get me beheaded.” _This is a bad idea._

Her eyes widened at the severity of his tone. Would it be that bad? “Enchancia stopped beheading at least two centuries ago.”

Cedric gave her a pleading look, hoping it would summon the common sense she clearly misplaced sometime earlier. “I’m sure your father, the _king_ , could make an exception.”

Sofia’s lips jutted out in thought.

His exasperation grew, surely she knew how inappropriate this was? What if people saw the proper and _chaste_ princess on top of her servant? Her reputation would be devastated.

While his head may not be in danger, disrespecting the princess’s virtue could strip him of his title, and most likely bring punishments far worse than that. He could already smell the dungeons!

Sofia felt guilty for causing the panic on Mr. Cedric’s features. Perhaps she didn’t think this through enough. Of course he wouldn’t want her this close.

Feeling a heartache she knew was unjustified, she offered, “If it makes you uncomfortable, I can get off.”

The sadness on her face nearly resembled rejection. That was just unfair.

He eyed the locked partition; it couldn’t be opened from the opposite side. He sighed. His inability to disappoint her would come back to bite him a lot sooner than he thought.

“It’s… fine.”

Sofia's eyes stared into his, “Are you sure?”

 _Fucking no._ “Yes, it’s okay.”

She smiled in relief and wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug. Mr. Cedric was so nice. A small thrill danced against her rib cage, he let her sit on his lap!

His heart was pumping out blood as if he was in danger. He could almost hear it in his ears. Cedric needed to fix this.

He’s long accepted the damnation of Sofia being his favorite person. Her genuine care for him ruthlessly tore down every single feeble attempt to shut her out.

He could only hope she would never find out how weak he was against her, like how his moronic choices led to her sitting less than an inch away from his cock.

How could he move Sofia closer to his knees without making it obvious why? A slight rumble of the carriage was the only warning he got. Adrenaline spiked in his veins.

 _Turbulence_.

That was his last thought before the carriage shook and the princess landed directly on his groin. He bit his lip, forcing himself to be quiet.

Sofia tensed against him, “Ah, sorry, Mr. Cedric. I hope that didn’t hurt.”

Hyperaware of her reaction, he prayed to all deities that he knew of that she didn’t notice.

_Please don’t be traumatized. Please don’t be traumatized._

She was just apologetic, not embarrassed. Oh, great. He wasn’t a killer of childhood wonder.

Hopefully, he can just smash his head against the wall once they get to his old school and this memory would die with him.

Before he could throw himself a pity party, he finally thought of something. Cedric tapped her arm, “Princess, if you wouldn’t mind, would you sit on just one leg? They’re getting tired so alternating would help.”

She looked just as pleased as ever to help someone in need, “No problem, Mr. Cedric!”

Carefully, she shifted her weight onto one of his legs, using the other one as leverage. It was slightly awkward to sit across a smaller area.

She managed to get comfortable, mostly. She was getting tired of sitting upright but her only other option was to lean on Mr. Cedric’s chest, but that felt like crossing a line.

Sofia gasped as she felt the movement of the carriage. She felt her face warm in shame. Her heart was punching against her chest as she realized what just happened.

Mr. Cedric’s leg was between hers. The vibrations of the carriage went through him and straight to her center. Her most private area was rubbing against Mr. Cedric.

Fighting off more embarrassment than she ever remembered feeling, she tried to lift her hips to somehow lessen the pressure. The jostling started again and Sofia only half-successfully stifled a squeak. Her body started to heat up.

This isn’t what she wanted.

It was wrong to take advantage of his kindness this way. Her heart fought its way up her throat, she didn’t know how to stop this without telling him.

Unwilling to make another sound, she clenched her jaw and pursed her lips. She lightly tilted her head forward; her hair shadowed her visage.

The warring sensation of guilt and pleasure was making her lightheaded. He wouldn’t like what she’s doing, she tried to remind herself. She could get caught.

This was Mr. Cedric. 

It was _his_ firmness that grazed her folds, it was a profound revelation. Her sex _throbbed_. It’s never done that before. It felt like something pressed against her nub from the inside.

Mr. Cedric who let her stay in his tower even when he was tired, who would listen to her ramble about what bothered her, and made witty remarks about the stories she told him.

He made her laugh without meaning to, and when she was glum, he tried to do so on purpose.

With practiced guard, he fulfilled his duties to the king. Yet, around her, if he had a bad day his shoulders would subtly slump, and if he had a good one his angular lips would form a small content smile.

Sometimes, after a particularly successful spell, he would have a proud smirk that was currently making her toes curl. The vibrations on her were a foreign feeling, but the fluttering in her abdomen wasn’t.

It hasn’t ever occurred to her that her small fixation on Mr. Cedric could even fall into the same realm as the stolen moments under her bedsheets.

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing a moan.

Against everything she should be doing, Sofia pressed herself onto his leg. She angled her hips slightly and touched her most sensitive flesh to Mr. Cedric.

She could feel her pulse everywhere in her body, it was most unforgiving right above her slit. It was hard to concentrate on anything else.

The push and pull against her pearl of flesh lured her hips to rock harder. By know, she was softly bouncing. Whether it was her doing or the carriage’s, was beyond her comprehension.

As desperately as she tried to suppress the choked, high-pitched remnants of her moans, they escaped through her nose. She wondered if she could drown like this. Her head felt like it was under water.

Cedric stared at the princess’s rolling hips in building hysteria.

When Sofia first gasped, it was easy to attribute it to the abrupt movement of the carriage startling her. It was a lot harder to dismiss her subsequent squeak. Slightly concerned, he almost inquired what was wrong, until he noticed the too hot feeling on his mid-thigh.

Realization fell upon him like freezing water, except it was cold enough to burn. He stared in absolute incredulity. Innocent Sofia. Barely-an-adolescent Sofia was currently rutting against his thigh.

It felt as if time had stopped, the only thing that existed was him and the knowledge that the princess was using his leg to get off.

He almost laughed in acrid disbelief. It was as if the universe decided that it needed to fuck him over, again, for the millionth time.

This was his fault, he realized in despair.

He allowed her to sit on his lap when she didn't know any better. He asked her to place her weight on one leg.

If he took just _two_ goddamn seconds to consider that Sofia had a bundle of nerves between her legs he would’ve just had her sit sideways.

He wasn’t in the habit of thinking about her genitalia, sue him! Now Sofia was letting out small whimpers as she rubbed her cunt against his thigh.

A moment passed as he gaped wordlessly at his life.

His eyebrows drew together. This wasn’t about him. She most likely felt the stimulation and was overwhelmed by it. This was probably a new sensation for Sofia. He could hardly fault her for chasing what humans have sought after from the very beginning.

She let out the tiniest wine of frustration.

This was nothing but hormones. This _child_ was just going through her sticky phase. It didn’t mean anything.

His cock started to harden anyway. He groaned, fighting down the hysteria.  
  
Fuck teenagers.

…

 _Not_ literally.

He was beginning to feel sick. He wasn’t attracted to Sofia; he wasn’t enjoying this. Yet the guilt weighed unmoving on his chest.

Her tiny, barely audible noises got louder.

Blood continued to rush lower.

He let his head fall back in a silent scream. He seriously considered disregarding her guaranteed trauma and just pushing her off.

It _wasn’t_ because it was Sofia.

Sofia felt more wound up than she thought was possible. Her shy brushes with pleasure paled against the continual tremor of his fabric-covered thigh.

She didn’t think it was possible to feel this good. She was distantly aware she was trembling. Her legs were trying to shut, impeded by Mr. Cedric.

It was too much, the vibrations, Mr. Cedric’s scent, the heat of his body. She didn’t know where she was headed, but it felt like she would die if she stopped.

Without thinking, she reached out one hand and grabbed Cedric’s thigh, the other frantically searched behind her for his hand. She didn’t care if it gave her away, she _needed_ it.

He limply accepted her hand and after a moment of hesitation, he intertwined his fingers with hers.

The gesture was enough to tighten all the muscles in her body. Her body coiled and hot liquid euphoria ran through her veins directly to her center.

“Ah- ngh! Mist- er Cedric!”

Sofia slumped into him.

He froze. Panic’s ice-cold claws tore into his stomach.

She came on his leg while crying out his name.

It didn’t mean anything. She was just a girl, a child who stumbled into something they didn’t understand.

This was merely an unconventional method of self-exploration. She wasn’t thinking about him in the heights of ecstasy. She didn’t know what it meant to cry out his name.

The memory of her legs clenching around his thigh as she shook in carnal bliss would haunt him. Her girly, breathy voice calling out his name while squeezing his hand for comfort will be seared onto his mind forever.

It didn’t matter. 

Sofia started to move, barely coming down from her afterglow. She stiffened as she came back to her senses.

He should kill that potential affection (he bitterly wishes he referred to her alone), be cruel, and make sure she would never again come near him. He’s pushed people away before; he can do it again.

What was a little emotional damage when it prevented this from happening again?

He could save himself the distress that comes with having obnoxiously gorgeous and kind, and _young_ princesses grinding on his leg.

Sofia hesitantly turned around. She was still sitting on his lap; her face was too close to his.

Not once before had he noticed her eyes were the color of the heavens in winter. They were desecrated with fear. Her face artlessly accused her humiliation. She spoke in a voice that sounded nothing like the loud cry of his name earlier, “I’m sorry.”

His throat shut, forcing the callous words to remain in his lungs. Even when she’s just cursed him with peril he never foresaw he’d be in, he couldn’t force himself to be vicious to her.

He touched her arm, trying to assure her.

“It’s… fine.” _No, it’s not._

He was grateful to see her slightly relax. Now that he took care of that, he needed to get away from her. Now.

He pulled out his wand and weakly said, “You should get cleaned up.”

She predictably flushed at the implication and his throat ached. He couldn’t look at her right now.

Before she could utter a word, he tapped his wand to her side, and she disappeared into a cloud of smoke, now safely back in her room. If only he remembered that spell earlier.

Maybe he wanted this, an accusatory voice whispered. He didn’t, he knew he didn’t.

He hated this. He hated the memory of her writhing on his leg. He hated that he knew the sound of her climax.

He _wasn’t_ attracted to Sofia.

He let his head fall into his hands and let out a sob.

He was fully hard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I tried to give this a sensible continuation. Not sure if I succeeded. This feels like its so bad but I gotta practice somewhere. If you can get any kind of enjoyment from this, good for you lol.

Sofia materialized in a puff of smoke right above her bed. The abrupt landing forced the air out of her lungs in a quiet _oof_.

Lifting herself by her arms, she took in her surroundings. The room was spinning.

“Ugh.”

She focused on her breathing until the dizziness went away. Did Mr. Cedric feel disoriented every time he appeared in a puff of magic?

She buried her face into her comforter. Mr. Cedric was angry enough to send her here through a spell!

Princesses didn’t _use_ —she refused to call it anything else lest she become vulgar—men’s legs to seek such things, not that Cedric really cared about what Princesses should do. He always seemed to encourage the opposite.

‘How did the flying derby go?’, ‘Of course you can wear a morning dress to an evening ball, Violet doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’ ‘Perhaps Enchancia’s bleeding heart should sit down,’ ‘That duchess is slightly less pleasant than a decorated mountain goat.’

She couldn’t blame him. She doubted she would’ve reacted any better if someone did that to her. Well, if Mr. Cedric did it- she groaned. What kind of thought is that!

Her heart was furiously thumping on the mattress through her chest. She could almost imagine him holding her hand wasn’t platonic, if he hadn’t immediately sent her away in disgust.

Because that’s what she did, isn’t it? Become vulgar.

He didn’t even let her speak.

She rolled to her side and cringed. The slickness between her thighs was an unwelcome reminder of her sins.

He was right; she did need a bath. He must’ve specifically sent her to her room for that.

She awkwardly walked to her washroom, refusing to call for Violet. She tried not to wonder at what point in the process it occurred to him she would need to wash up.

+

Sofia made her way to his tower. The wooden flooring of the castle gave way to stone as she opened the door to the stairwell. The click of her heels was louder than usual. She willed her hands not to shake, this was Mr. Cedric.

The dark wood of the door under the receding sunlight was more unwelcoming than usual. She knocked anyway. Silence met her, only exasperating her fidgeting. She tried again, not even the sound of movement came from the other side.

She tried the handle to no use. He was always too scattered by his projects to remember to lock his door. With a creeping suspicion, she checked under the gargoyle’s toe. No key.

Ouch.

She glanced at the door, worrying her lip in thought. It wasn’t even worth calling out his name, was it? He didn’t want company right now. If he was there, she futilely reminded herself.

He could be fulfilling duties she wasn’t aware of. She didn’t know everything about his schedule. Her feet automatically descended the stairs while she stared blankly ahead. She can just try later.

+

“So, Sofia. Did you manage to get the books you were talking about?” Her mother made conversation over the table.

“Oh,” she said, slightly alarmed at the unexpected subject. “No, I... didn’t quite make it to Hexley Hall.”

Amber cocked a perfect brow, “You left me to organize my headpieces alone to not get your books?”

“I- ah, didn’t get to the carriage in time,” smooth.

“You should’a ran,” James suggested around his food.

She spent the rest of dinner pretending not to notice Amber’s suspicious glint.

+

It was odd to not have anywhere to go at the end of the day. After the first attempt, she tried going to his tour twice more before she accepted his obvious dismissal.

She spotted him in the hallway once, talking to her father. However, he didn’t acknowledge her presence. She heeded the silent warning and walked in the opposite direction. He just needed time, she thought miserably.

She spent the whole day replaying their not-quite interaction. At bedtime, she retired to her room, more exhausted than she had the right to be.

Her footsteps halted in the middle of getting ready when she noticed something on her bed. The dim candlelight only barely illuminated the object from afar.

Upon a closer look, she realized it was a short stack of books. She held the cover towards the light.

It was the _Potions vs. Spells_ comparison book, she noted slightly confused. She lifted the second in the pile, _Illusions: The Soft Metamorphosis_. She hurriedly checked the other titles. These were the exact magic theory books she wanted to pick up.

She carefully placed the stack on her nightstand, her heart lighter than its been in days.

There was only one person who went to Hexley Hall recently.

+

She wondered if he was going to teach her today. It’s been almost a week of respecting his wishes to be left alone, but today they had class.

If she went to his tower would it even be unlocked? She tried not to feel bitter. It was easy if she concentrated on the guilt instead. She sighed, that wasn’t much better.

There was a regal knock at her door. It couldn’t have been Baileywick, he would’ve let himself in after knocking. She went to open the door and floundered.

There stood Cedric, with perfectly squared shoulders.

She didn’t realize how much she didn’t believe she would see him (especially in the royal quarters) until he was in front of her.

His name clumsily tumbled out of her mouth, “Mr. Cedric?”

Cedric smiled but the corners of his eyes didn’t wrinkle, “Princess Sofia.”

It was startling to finally see him after the carriage ride. For as hard as she tried to talk to him, she didn’t know where to begin.

Thankfully, Cedric spoke first, “Our lesson today will be in the castle gardens.”

She blinked, unsure at the direction of the conversation. “You mean we will be doing the class?”

“That’s not in my authority to ordain,” he replied coolly.

Right. Royal duties. It was easy to forget Mr. Cedric was technically her servant too. His mouth was slightly shrugged downwards, and his usual animated movements were gone.

His subservient façade was near perfect, but she’s known him for too long and watched him too closely. Neutral tones and stiff spines rarely accompanied his expressive character.

She couldn’t make him do this.

Putting on a brave face, she offered, "We don't have to do the classes if you don't want to."

“It’s fine.”

The underlying harshness in his reply made her stiffen. “Right.”

His jaw muscle twitched, “Get changed. I’ll be in the gardens.”

“Yes, Mr. Cedric.”

Sofia tried to be thankful Mr. Cedric didn’t cancel their sessions, but her stomach still twisted at his clear discomfort. She hurried to get her apprentice robe, trying to avoid upsetting him further.

He stood in the middle of a large open green space between the castle and the more elaborate garden space. Standing next to him, she noticed they were in direct line of sight for most of the back of the castle windows.

“Will we be learning spells that require a wide-open space?”

He didn’t look at her.

“We’re continuing the illusionary strain. This time we’ll be practicing on the human alternate,” he partially answered her question.

This place was purposeful. He didn’t want an open area, just a public one. She nodded and resisted biting her lip. He didn’t owe her forgiveness.

Then she remembered, “How did you know the books I wanted?”

His stance relaxed slightly, “You asked a lot of questions about specific enough subjects. I just had to think about the books I didn’t already have in my collection.” Which she usually has free access to.

Still, she smiled a little dumbly at Mr. Cedric paying enough attention to be able to accurately guess the books she wanted.

Mr. Cedric's brows scrunched together, to what was beyond her. "Take out your wand. We're going to start with the color-changing basics."

The practice went worse than she expected. Mr. Cedric’s usual friendly suggestions disappeared in favor of clipped orders. The only thing she got after getting a spell right was an introduction to the next spell.

Worst of all was the silent frustration simmering inside her mentor. When she mispronounced an incantation or started with the wrong wand movement, she could see him become more keyed up.

She's never been more afraid of losing a friend, part of her wondered if she already did. Her mistakes doubled, his sharp orders making her hands shake slightly.

“Let’s finish with an invisibility spell,” he decided, even though they had thirty minutes left. “I assume I don’t have to explain all the moral implications of misusing this spell.”

She probably needed a lecture on morals at this point, “No.”

“This should be simple enough. However, it is one of the longer ones. Pay attention to the pronunciation.”

Mr. Cedric slightly regained some of his excited lilt. “Since illusions are based on perception, the determiner _Abscondere_ is used instead of _Mutato_. It means to hide. The body of the spell will be _Custodia Animarium_ , meaning cages of the soul.”

He gave her a warning glance, “This spell can be dangerous if pronounced incorrectly, so I strongly discourage playing with the wording. For example, if you were to replace _Abscondere_ with _Mutato_ the spell would make the body disappear instead of becoming invisible.”

He pointed his wand to himself and spoke clearly, “ _Abscondere Custodia Animarium_.”

In the span of two seconds Mr. Cedric’s form faded into nothing. The only proof he remained were the two spots of sunken grass on the ground.

Sofia was delighted, “That’s so cool!” She got closer to get a better look, but the footsteps retreated with a hitched breath.

Oh. She tried not to wince; Mr. Cedric probably didn’t want to be touched.

“ _Ostendit Cavea Animarium_.”

As Mr. Cedric began to appear, he explained, “Keep in mind that it’s easier to take something out of existence than put something in it, color included.”

He scoured himself, once satisfied, he gestured for her to begin.

She pointed her wand towards her purple attire, “ _Abscondere Custodia Animarum_.”

Mr. Cedric’s face drained of color. He yelped, “Plural, Sofia! Plural!”

Before she could process his words he grabbed her and pulled her against him. He angled them so his body was towards the castle.

Sofia noticed color shifting from the lower corner of her vision and looked down.

Her clothes were nearly faded away.

She squeaked and scrambled to cover herself up, but his grip on her was iron.

“Merlins Mushrooms, Sofia! _Don’t_ move," he growled and brusquely removed his robe, pointedly looking at the sky. Holding her firmly against him, he draped it on her and roughly tied it, seething.

Her face prickled with hot needles, wondering how much he saw, how much everyone saw.

“I swear to whatever is up there, Sofia. I told you that spell was sensitive!”

Sofia snapped. She understood if he couldn’t forgive her, truly. But he wasn’t the one who was almost exposed in public. “You didn’t tell me it could disappear my clothes!”

That, apparently, was not the right thing to say. His eyes narrowed dangerously, his unbearably dark voice curled around her like a snake, “Are you unaware your actions can have _bad_ consequences, princess?”

She floundered at the unexpected intensity, “If- if there was even that chance of that happening, why did you bring us here?”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you could remember basic Latin! It was _Animarium_ , not _Animarum_. Everything was fine before.”

“You were making me nervous! You’ve never been so standoffish.”

“And look where that got me!”

Sofia’s throat tightened; she didn’t have anything to say to that. Cedric’s jaw quickly snapped shut, teeth clicking together.

He muttered, “ _Ostendit Cavea Animarum_ ,” emphasizing the mispronounced word like twisting a knife, and her garments slowly regained their color.

“I’m taking you up on that offer,” Cedric bit out, “These classes are suspended, indefinitely.”

She couldn’t say anything, just watched him walk away.

Rejection hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry if you know Latin lmao. You absolutely did not deserve to be bulshitted this hard. 
> 
> Also, I'm trying out a new spacing format from the last chapter. I'd really appreciate your opinion on which one you think is better.


	3. Chapter 3

The clock ticked in the quiet room, and the passing footsteps of the servants had long dwindled. She shifted to her side and hugged her pillow, not being able to sleep.

Dinner was uncomfortable, she feared someone was going to mention her failed magic lessons. However, the only comment that came was from Amber, who saw the earlier spells and asked why anyone would want to turn such an ugly shade of chartreuse.

The irony that surrounded her sister was better left ignored.

No servants had given her any odd looks, and Baileywick was as poised as ever, but it’s not like she would be able to tell if he saw something.

Once the high emotions passed, she realized she owed Mr. Cedric an apology, on top of the other one she had yet to express. It wasn’t his responsibility to list every way a spell could go wrong; those were the hazards of magic.

It was a few days since she and Mr. Cedric fought. She didn’t try to go to his tower and only saw him in the halls twice, both times robe-less. Someone should tell him his breeches were too tight.

She needed to apologize. Her thoughtless actions made him severely uncomfortable. Maybe he wouldn’t forgive her, but she had to let him know she was sorry.

If only she could get him alone long enough to apologize! She was so close to just saying it in front of whoever he was conveniently hiding behind.

She glanced at the books on her nightstand. He originally wasn’t going to cancel the classes either, until she messed up the spell.

Maybe he just wanted an excuse to end the tutorship? But that didn’t make sense. He had the opportunity before!

She’s done trying to guess what he was thinking. His tower was probably unlocked right now.

Sofia got out of bed and slipped on a nightgown over her chemise. She folded his robe over her arms, almost regretfully. Goodbye embroidered vests and form-fitting breeches.

One last try and she’ll leave him alone.

Making sure to avoid any night guards and the few odd workers preparing for tomorrow’s castle events, Sofia sneaked through the long and dark hallways.

She carefully opened the doors to the stairwell and walked up, her night slippers not making a sound. The warm glow under the door somehow didn’t make the entrance any more welcoming.

She briefly considered knocking, but he knew what her knock sounded like. If the door was unlocked now, he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

The handle was unlocked.

It was more surreal than it should’ve been to see his study again. The flickering of the candle over his desk made the glass vials gleam.

“Trespassing now, really?”

Sofia jumped and turned at an unamused looking Cedric. She smiled cautiously, “Good evening, Mr. Cedric?”

He crossed his arms and frowned, “Out.”

Her smile persisted, albeit artificially. She expected this. She extended her arms, “I have your robe.”

His closed posture barely changed, but his finger twitched. Got him. After a second of deliberation, he reached for his beloved royal robes, accepting the metaphorical olive branch.

No better time than the present. She steadied herself, determined to explain herself clearly, and hurriedly squeaked out, “Please forgive me.” Darn.

Momentarily caught off guard, he said somewhat uncertainly, “You had the right to be angry.”

Hope traitorously flared up. “So you’ll teach me magic again?”

He moved to shoo her out of his door but abruptly caught himself. He scowled, “No.”

Her voice strained under the effort to remain calm, “Did I truly offend you so deeply you can’t bear to be in a room with me?”

His mouth shrugged downwards, guilt leaking through his stilted expression.

“What if I promised I’ll never touch you again? Not even a handshake. Would that fix it?”’ she pleaded.

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“We’re not having any conversations!”

His lips pursed ruefully. She could’ve sworn he lamented impious child under his breath. He sat on his reading chair, already turning away from her, “Knock next time.”

Sofia stomped in front of him.

Her words cracked. She tried to impart all the regret and misery, and yearning through one sentence, “Mr. Cedric, _I’m sorry._ ”

A larger hand tentatively covered her own, nearly startling her. He spoke softly, “I accepted your apology, remember? When you first gave it to me.”

“A ‘sorry’ can’t excuse this.”, he defeatedly gestured to the space between them.

Sofia blinked.

“But,” she tried to understand, “There’s nothing here. You made that clear, several times.”

Cedric’s stared at her in silence, gaze hard. His palm became warm with perspiration.

Oh god. The books, the non-canceled classes, the refusing to touch her, the overt avoidance, the handholding.

“There is.”

His hand retreated as if burnt, “You’re misinterpreting this.”

“How do you know what I’m interpreting?”

Anxiety was written on his every feature. He began to get up.

“No!”

Before she could blink, let alone consider what she was doing, she lunged on top of the sitting man. Cedric released a small puff of air at the impact, instinctively catching her.

“Really, Sofia?”, he asked in exasperated bewilderment. “How could this have possibly seemed like a good idea to you?”

Sofia let out a single nervous cough, “I panicked, sorry. I didn’t know how to stop you.”

“I could push you off,” he pointed out, too baffled to be truly angry.

Her fingers quickly buried into his vest.

He nearly laughed, not quite believing the situation he was in, “This is extremely childish coming from you.”

She, unfortunately, ignored the jab, too entranced by her revelation.

“You like me.”

He grimaced at the childishly phrased accusation. “I do not _like_ you. I’m an _adult_ ,” unsubtly stressing the word, “who doesn’t use such pitifully juvenile language.”

“Did…” she paused; her pupils flickered wider. “Did you like it?”

“No. You’re a sexless child, and a pain to deal with afterwards.”

Hurt flashed over her darkened gaze, but besides a nearly imperceptible tremble of her lip, it had no affect over her. "I think you're lying."

This time he did laugh, but it was a hollow, desperate thing. “I already said that I don’t like you. You asked a question and I answered. Yet you don’t listen.” Why do you never give up?

She steadied herself by the grip on his vest and placed her legs on either side of him, “I can prove it.” She slowly rolled her hips on his, clearly nervous.

Having more grace than an animal, he didn’t hiss, but it was a near thing. “What are you doing?”

Their positions were distressingly familiar. But these chestnut curls weren’t bouncing because of turbulence, it was wholly Sofia’s doing. It was blown winter hues and soft rounded lips open in a silent gasp.

It was on purpose.

“I thought I imagined it,” she became quiet with the admission, “The poking feeling, I mean.”

Her face reflected curiosity at the new sensations—Oh, god. Of course they’re new—she bashfully tightened her grip as he started growing erect.

He came back to his senses like a punch to the gut. That should not be arousing.

Some part of him, one he was unaware existed until recently, begged at the top of its lungs to give in. She certainly didn’t seem unenthusiastic, and her heat was nothing short of exquisite on the hardening tip of his cock.

But even if he wasn’t a good man. He’s come to love her happiness, deeply. If he let her continue, it was going to hurt her more than his words ever could.

“Congratulations, princess, you’ve proven I have a working anatomy.”

Her eyes flew open as if she didn't realize she ever closed them.

He couldn’t stop, “A reaction to stimulus, nothing more. But I suppose kid wouldn’t know that, now would they?” As viciously as he could, he spit out, “It’s wrong to touch people in such a manner without their consent, spoiled child.”

He was nearly relieved when true Sofia-esque guilt sharpened her cloudy eyes.

But her eyes remained sharp. “I won’t touch you, then.”

“Great, now get- What are you doing?”, he choked on his own words. It would’ve embarrassed him in any other circumstance but now he was too preoccupied trying not to have a stroke.

Sofia had pressed her palm against the cleft of her thighs. Her face was engulfed in hot red.

Oh, goodness. This was definitely not her original plan, but she was too far in.

It was unbearable to look at him in the eyes, so she rested her gaze on his mouth, which was currently parted.

Her palm vertically rolled against her clitoris, massaging her mound in the process.

She puffed her cheeks in concentration; trying to replicate how Mr. Cedric felt.

While slightly rocking her hips, she pressed harder. Her body shivered so hard she almost lost her balance. She needed to stabilize herself before she fell on him and broke her word.

After a moment of consideration, Sofia’s stomach twisted as she made her decision. She pulled up the hems of her nightgown and chemise and held them with her mouth, revealing the span of her stomach to the slight pudginess of her athletic thighs.

Mr. Cedric whimpered. She really wished she knew if that was a good sign or not.

The cool air of the tower against her exposed skin did nothing to calm her nerves. This was humiliating. She really hoped she wasn’t mistaken.

Cedric squared his gaze on Sofia’s face when he first noticed her indecent hand movements, refusing to look down but unable to completely look away. He knew it was a losing battle when she took her already ungodly thin night garments and stuffed her mouth with them.

She had no idea what she was replicating, did she?

It sickened him that his dick ached at the thought.

Sofia let out a muffled whine through the fabric. Cedric’s eyes flickered down, immediately regretting the pale thighs and flushed pink seared onto his brain.

She was the same shade of porcelain everywhere.

With a noise of frustration, she spit out the fabric, “It doesn’t feel the same.”

Her glistening middle and forefingers were lacking any technique. He shouldn't have been surprised by her request, but he was.

It was obvious she was inexperienced. Her painfully clumsy ministrations couldn’t be doing more than teasing her. He distantly wondered if her first orgasm was on his leg.

He could reach out, pull her by her delightfully flared hips, and kiss her cunt until he couldn’t remember the taste of anything else.

Maybe she would sob if he took long enough. Would she scream or would her mouth part in a silent 'o' shape? Her eyes could be shiny, or lucid, maybe tightly shut, but losing that view would be a shame.

Sofia groaned out a watery moan, “Please.”

He momentarily wondered if he truly was going to make this mistake.

“Lessen the pressure of your fingers.”

He was.

She gaped in awe at him but quickly compelled with what he asked.

“Good. Keep the motion that you’re doing right now.”

He waited until her breathing got heavier and her shoulder loosened until he spoke again.

“Slide two fingers around your clit.”

“My- agh- what?”

“Clitoris,” he said tersely.

Her red face somehow deepened. “O-okay”

Her fingers parted her labia as she attempted to follow what he said.

“Softly. Don’t pinch, it’s far too sensitive.”

“I’m trying. It’s hard to keep- ngh- my balance without holding onto the armrest.”

He didn’t spare a second thought as he took her skirt from her, bunching it up against her torso.

Sofia's breath hitched. Her gaze was half-lidded in aroused appreciation. He could regret this later. He wasn't touching her.

"Using the current shape of your fingers, I want you to massage its sides. Can you do that for me?"

Sofia frantically nodded and bit her lip to muffle herself.

“Good girl.”

No.

This was to get her off, and out of his tower. He just needed to get her to cum—fuck. “Use two fingers to the very top of your clit, where it meets your labia.”

He wasn’t going to touch her.

“Now, the tip of your clit is at the beginning of your inner labia. Did you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Lightly rub its underside, as if you were polishing a pearl. Good. You can get slightly under the skin, but don’t pull it back; it’s too sensitive.”

Sofia's legs started to tremble. Her hips moved on their own. She gave out with a stifled mewl and a tiny gasp.

She panted, trying to regain her breath. It was hard to remember what she was trying to prove. She noted the novel strain in his breeches. Right.

She met Mr. Cedric's heady golden stare, molten with poorly hidden longing.

“There wasn’t any stimulus this time.”

His mouth clamped shut, looking lost. His eyes shined with resignation.

“Can I touch you now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly smut, sorry. But I'm gonna learn to write it dammit. English ain't my first language so if you see anything incomprehensible feel free to point it out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters on the same day bc why not.

Sofia gathered her courage and reached for the bulge in his trousers. Her fingers managed to graze the fabric before a tight grip captured her wrist. She glanced up at him and faltered.

His eyes were tightly shut, eyelids wrinkled at the sides. A swallowed “Stop” clawed out from the back of his throat.

For the first that night, she wondered if she made a mistake coming to his tower at all.

His face was screwed up in a wince, he whispered— pleaded— “Don’t. Please.”

A cold shiver went up her spine. Her eyes prickled.

She didn’t mean to do this.

Sofia pulled down her dress, feeling like a fool. She thought he wanted her.

“Mr. Cedric I am so sorry. I- I was just trying- I don’t. I thought you— I promise I didn’t want to make you do anything against-” Her light-speed rambling wavered with un-shed tears, nearly cracking.

He looked so scared it made her want to hug him but was she even allowed to touch him anymore? His grip didn't let her get closer. That thought did blurry her vision. She tried blinking back her tears but it was no use.

There would be no more Mr. Cedric. He was already distant after the first time (which was her fault), so he was definitely going to hate her now, and that was perfectly understandable. She wasn’t just a bad princess anymore, she was an abhorrent friend.

She hiccuped and started to get off his lap, for good. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m a bad person.”

Mr. Cedric’s face was heavily guarded. He didn’t release her wrist, “You’re wrong.”

Sofia whimpered, “Let me go.”

His eyebrows met in hesitation, but his tone was sure, “You, out of all people, are not a bad person. That’s ludicrous.”

“I made you to watch me because I deluded myself into believing you wanted me! I almost- agh!- against your will!”

Against _his_ will?

His fingers felt like they were trying to crush her bones, genuine fury ignited his face. He spit the words out like vile, “You’re the one who can’t consent!”

He jabbed his finger into her sternum, “I don’t care how emotionally mature you are or the impressive things you’ve accomplished, _protector_. You weren’t even able to properly masturbate!”

Her stunned face was only capable of flushing. Her cheeks were still wet, but she wasn’t trying to get away any longer.

“I’m the bad person here! You’re fucking perfect. And you were also right,” he looked away in a grimace, “about me wanting you, so don’t feel bad that you got that idea.”

A dangerous and buzz hummed in her abdomen, unaccustomed to the crass language. “So why?”

“You don’t understand what you’re doing.” His words were strained. He dearly hoped his withering will wasn’t as transparent as it felt.

He harshly lifted a finger in the air when she inhaled to speak. “You are going to remember this as the weird royal sorcerer who you thought was your friend instead taking advantage of your blossoming sexuality, and you would be right.”

Oh. The fluttering came back at full force. She tried to not get distracted by his confession. He was worried about her. But he was wrong, “I started this. From sitting on your lap in the carriage, to following you around the castle, to sneaking out in the middle of the night so you would talk to me!”

She smiled humorlessly; it held a self-deprecating edge he didn’t like. “Mr. Cedric. How could I remember this as anything but you trying to get away from me and I following you anyway.”

He winced at the resounding truth in her words, but insisted, “Sofia. If this turns into a bad memory, it is going to be painful. It can’t be worth it.”

She considered his words carefully, “It’s easy for people to like me when I’m good, which is okay, but-” her eyes softened, “you let me step off my royal pedestal every day.”

Of course, Sofia would perceive that as him being accepting of her, always has to see the best in people. He wanted to see her at her truest for purely selfish reasons. She was delightful company, all smart questions and curious eyes, and he was lonely.

“You give me too much credit.” He didn’t deserve her words; he was one plea away from bedding her.

Sofia shook her head, “I need you, Mr. Cedric.”

He tried one last time. He needed to try one last time. _Tell me to stop._

“You still call me Mister. Does that not raise any red flags for you?”

Her cold colored irises were nearly gone with heated charcoal black. Her face was determined in a way that was pure unadulterated Sofia.

She whispered his name with a truly unmerited amount of reverence.

“Cedric.”

He could almost hear the snap of his will breaking.

He brought his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him, parched for the feeling since the garden. He buried his hand in her hair and covered her pliant mouth with his.

His arm tightened almost fearfully around her, so soft. His slightly open lips remained firmly—nearly harshly— pressed onto hers. Moving wasn’t important yet. He needed to feel her nose against his cheek, the fluttering of her eyelashes.

He ran his fingers through her hair, but only the tips of them could make out the softness of her strands.

He growled into her mouth, and without pulling away from the kiss, he took off his gloves behind her back. Eagerly, his hand sunk back into her hair, the other planted on the back of her thigh.

This was her. It was possibly the most inebriating revelation he’s ever experienced. “Say it again.”

“Wh-”

It was her mouth. He relaxed his jaw and lightly caressed her bottom lip with his tongue. It was barely poking out, yet Sofia managed to place a small kiss on it. Her wet lips around the tip of his tongue had him twitch in his breeches.

“Say my name.”

He grazed the wet tip of his tongue against hers. She hummed, wanting whatever he was willing to give her. The sentence was puzzling; she’s never heard such a request. “Mis- Cedric.”

His hand was massaging the back of her thigh, steadily moving higher, not quite hidden by her garments, but getting there. The tiny kisses he placed under her chin made her head tilt back. He mouthed into her neck, “Again.”

Her voice shook, her fingers dug into his garments, “Cedric.”

His fingers came to a halt when they reached the wetness dripping far down her leg. Cedric inhaled sharply against her ear.

“I’m at your mid-thigh.”

“Is— is that bad?”

She heard him swallow next to her ear, “No.”

He wanted to taste her, lap at her dripping sex, suck on her puffy clit, let his tongue be the first thing she ever feels inside her.

Because she’s never done this before.

He could spread her milky legs and lick until the only shine on her was his saliva.

Because she’s a fucking ki-

“Cedric,” Sofia tested out, “Will we- ah, um”

His gloveless palm had slid up to the conjuncture of her thigh and her pelvis.

“Oh? What happened to the,” he grazed his fingers over her wet slit, “shameless little temptress from earlier?”

“Ah!” She peeked one eye open, “Temptress?”

“Like you haven’t seen how you look.”

The flush on her face deepened. He was slightly incredulous. “Are you really blushing because I called you pretty?” he teased.

Tempting, he called her tempting.

Sofia glowered, “Maybe it’s just this position. Can anyone be confident like this?”

With her scrunched-up face and blushy nose, Cedric couldn’t resist, “You certainly didn’t seem to have a problem.”

She sputtered, almost taking offense, but she must've seen something in his face because, after a second of silence, she started giggling.

The ends of his lips hitched up; he contained himself from joining her. At least this situation was ludicrous for them both.

Her laughter died down, and her smile made him still. He missed it.

There was narrow a thing he wouldn’t do to keep it on her face forever, except stop her advances, he reminded himself grimly.

He slid a finger through her folds circled her entrance. He could barely mourn the loss of her smile before it was replaced with parted lips and half-lidded blue lace delphinium.

“I guess that was pretty brazen of me.”

He thumbed her clit, “You think?”

“I- ah- needed you to listen!~” she moaned out.

His thumb rolled, and he sunk his face into her clavicle. He murmured, “I’m listening.”

It somehow felt like the heaviest confession she’s ever heard.

With all the courage she could muster, she placed her hand on his lower abdomen. Making sure to give him enough time to react, she slowly slid it down to his erection.

“Can we…?”

He suddenly understood what she was asking, his surprise quickly morphed into a wince. “No.”

Sofia tried not to let it sting, “Do you not want to?”

“You are egregiously mistaken,” he forced out, pained. He continued, pushing the vile down his throat, “I will not strip you of your maidenhood.”

She released a shaky, “Oh.”

“I… can’t—” He wasn’t even sure she could _accommodate_ him. “Please allow me this.”

An ugly feeling weld up in her chest, one that she was beginning to hate. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to give you pleasure too.”

Understanding calmed his features. “This,” he traced a tendon in her inner wrist with reverence, “is a great start.”

She nodded hesitantly. Her fingers skillfully undid the buttons, unlike true pampered royalty, he supposed. She pulled down the fabric and her blush expanded to her ears. She didn’t make a sound.

Oh no, no. This was too much for her, he should’ve known she wasn’t- “Ah,” he flinched in surprise.

"Was that ok?" her hand gripped the tip.

He steadied his breathing, “Yes, that’s good. Just…” how does one even explain such a thing, “be gentle.”

Ignoring his dull but persistent conscience, he withdrew his hand from between her legs and covered her hand with his. He guided her hand up and down his cock, “Like this.”

He thought about using her natural lubricant to make her movements easier but decided against it. He couldn’t do it. He released her hand to continue on her own.

"Can I lift your dress?", he whispered.

“Yes.”

Since her hands were busy, he didn't take it off her completely, he satisfied himself with uncovering her perky and developing bosom.

It made him feel disgustingly wicked that he already knew how she looked. The tiny glimpse of Monticello peach aureolas was enough to haunt him for days.

He knew it was hopeless the moment he saw her, his forbidden wonderings slamming back into him like a stampede. All his efforts to distance himself from the princess and never think about that damned carriage again burned to the ground.

He made sure to not linger, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, “I am going to take your breast into my mouth, okay?”

Sofia quickly nodded.

“Say it.” _You want this._

“Yes, please.”

He groaned; she didn’t need to beg. He started rocking into her hand. He pressed a lingering kiss on the underside of her pale breast, as a warning, a chance to back down. His lips opened over her nipple and he licked it, pulling it into his mouth.

His thumb swiped her clit in a circle, not trying to avoid its sensitive tip anymore. He pushed the end of his tongue into the middle of her nipple, he lightly bit the sides. He nuzzled his cheek into her other breast; she was so soft. Sofia was so soft.

“Sofia.”

Her hand kept moving, “Yes?”

“Sofia.”

She only slightly slowed, “Cedric?”

“Why?”

She squeezed the length of his cock, nearly affectionate. What a strange and effective assurance. Why did every stroke feel like a love declaration?

It’s hormones, he reminded himself. He groaned. They’ve already started this anyway. “Do something for me?”

“What is it?” She didn’t even consider saying no. Why did that still surprise him?

His hands gripped her thighs, pushing them apart, “Spread them for me?”

She did without hesitation but averted her gaze from him while she did it. Embarrassed Sofia wasn't something he saw often. With his palm still on her, he soothingly caressed her with his thumb. "Tell me to stop."

She didn’t resist him guiding her hips over his leaking cock.

“I thought you-”

“I’m not going to push it inside.”

Her cute face scrunched up in confusion, too aroused to be scandalized at his words. Cedric grazed his gland against her folds, causing her to gasp. He pushed further, her labia parted around the head of his member.

“Say my name.”

“Cedric.”

She was all glistening pink, slick skin, and heat. Oh god, the heat. She would be so tight around him, her pretty, untouched girlhood that she so freely offered to him. She would be delectable for him, he could probably make her enjoy it, too.

“Again.”

Even if not, she would be so pleased to make him happy.

“Cedric.”

Always putting him first. Always trying to include him, and shed a positive light upon him. She deserved an untainted opportunity to explore herself, not this. He thrust against her helplessly, her weightless consent enough to break him.

Sofia’s hips moved across the length of his cock, no longer content to remain still. “Cedric,” she whined, her climax building up.

He gave up trying to push down the wicked attraction to the ingenious girl, succumbing to the crushing pull of her earnest words. He grabbed his cock and pressed the tip over her swollen nub, smearing pre-cum over her in a filthy drag.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he begged roughly, hoarsely.

His name poured out of her in a high-pitched whine. His chest burned in astonished admiration for really no other reason besides that she was Sofia.

Oh god, he loved her.

He stared in open surprise at Sofia’s disheveled form. The peaks of her chest fell and rose raggedly.

Her angelic and ironically damming smile was currently replaced with swollen lips shaped to his name.

“Cedric!”

He held her in his arms, making sure her weakened muscles didn’t collapse. His painfully hard erection was nearly forgotten.

This was the most important person in his life.

Hesitantly, he thrust between her legs, mindful of her sensitivity. Sofia let out a whine but further separated her legs, inviting him to go faster.

He didn’t just love her displays happiness, he loved her.

It didn’t take long for him to sob into her neck, muttering _Sofia_ over and over, and came onto the inside of her thighs. The sight of pearly white on her thighs was sinful. He could have stared at her for hours but he couldn’t imagine she’d enjoy that.

He pulled her into him, refusing to let go. Sofia placed a kiss on his jaw, a simple but intimate gesture of affection. She never did that before. How many times has she wanted to and he hadn’t noticed?

Sofia relaxed into his chest. The late hour didn’t allow for long before her breath to even out. She sleepily mumbled, as if an afterthought, “I like you, too.”

She was too perceptive, sometimes.

His nose prickled with the pressure of his tear ducts threatening to overflow. Try as he might to stop it, his breathing choked up.

Why couldn’t he regret it?

Unwilling to move her to find his wand, he used his robe to clean the mess between her legs. His father would be horrified at this particular usage of the royal sorcerer vestment.

He was a bastard at heart, and Sofia would eventually see that. However, right now, for reasons truly beyond his understanding, Sofia wanted him. And may God personally damn him.

He wanted her too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was a satisfying resolution. It honestly caught me so of guard people were wondering what happened after the original one-shot, but I figured I'd try to continue it. 
> 
> Smut is so weird to write but I think I enjoyed it, idk if anyone else will lmao. But this was fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written smut before but I wanted to give it a try. This is probably really bad lol, but you gotta start somewhere! Let me know what you think; criticism is wholly appreciated :)
> 
> If you can think of a better name, let me know. Not my forte.


End file.
